A Complaint

In spirit when I took my flight
Above the mount, to see
My Lord, transfigured in the light
Of His own Deity:--

I cried, not knowing what I said,
"'Tis good to tarry here!"
But, when the heavenly vision fled,
Transport gave way to fear.

No longer counting all things loss,
To glory in His name,
I thought it hard to bear the cross,
Hard to despise the shame.

Ah! thus, my soul, it should not be;
Lord Jesus! hear my prayer;
Give me a heart to follow Thee
All times, and every where.

Let but Thy presence with me go,
Thy love be my delight,
Then shall I walk, through weal or woe,
By faith, and not by sight.